


hunted

by its3am



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Biting, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Choking, Death, Dubcon Cuddling, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gore, Illnesses, Mild Gore, Original Character Death(s), Post-Coital Cuddling, Reader-Insert, Restraints, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Scratching, Stalking, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its3am/pseuds/its3am
Summary: Reader POV, you've been trying to survive alone during the zombie apocalypse, but it's been six months without any kind of human interaction. Finally in a seemingly safe place, you let your guard down just enough to let physical interaction be your biggest mistake. Zombie soulmates yay. Death/implied gore/dubcon zombie love.
Relationships: Hunter (Left 4 Dead)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	hunted

You've been hiding for days in a boarded up basement, stacking cans of empty, expired canned foods and hoarding every drop of water you still have left in the two near-empty gallons hanging from a carabiner off the backpack you've had since you were in fourth grade. That was years ago, a distant memory. Life is different now. Always running, rarely sleeping, disease infiltrating every known corner of the world leaving almost no one left on earth. You haven't seen another living person in over six months. There are no helicopters left, no rescue crews. You missed all that, living out in the country. You should have stayed there, but after the power went out and the grocery store boarded up it's windows. After finding no radio stations left on the air, you packed up what you could and headed into the city. It was desolate when you arrived, no one left living. Cars rusting in the streets, eerily dark as even the backup generators had gone black.  
The last of the applesauce was gone, you'd scraped the last bit out of the can with your cold fingers. It was September, and the nighttime temperatures were dropping. Fire would draw them in, and there was no power to heat anything. It was time to make a run for it and go south, as south as you could get before you get stuck again. You packed everything that you could in your backpack, ensured the carabiner was fastened tight and listened at the door for any sign of movement on the other side.  
Several minutes passed, there was no movement - not even a scuffle. You take the 2x4 off the door, and slip outside. The coast was clear. Ascending the stairs, you remained alert, knowing that one slip up could mean the end of everything. You were still undecided if that was the way you wanted to go out. You wanted it to be on your terms, but really, what choice did you have? It was inevitable, one bite, one scratch, and you'd be sick like them. You checked your handgun, there were 22 bullets left. You had to make sure they were used only in emergency. You checked your blade, it was securely fastened at your hip. The house was quiet, blood smeared across the walls along with chunks of decaying flesh that littered the floor, the sink, the corners of the destroyed house. But you were used to the smell at this point.

Outside, there was no sound. No insects, no animals, no cars driving down the once busy city streets. The only sound was that of your footsteps and the wind rustling through the nighttime air, rustling your hair before you tuck it into your sweatshirt hood. You hum under your breath as you make your way down the sidewalk, eyes alert. You could see the masses huddled in the alleyways, walking into the dumpsters, mumbling and moaning sickeningly as they rotted, wandering aimlessly. You pulled your sweater closer, shivering as the temperature dropped, the hour growing later. Minutes passed, or was it hours? Your footsteps became lighter as you grew aware of eyes on you. Your breath slowed as you ducked into the shadows, attempting to blend in and not look like you were trying to hide. Panic welled up in your chest as you heard the telltale screeching of a more intelligent threat than the ones rotting away in the shadows.  
Tucking yourself into the corner, your eyes darted around, desperately trying to locate the source of the threat. Minutes crawled by as silence filled the air once again, thick with anticipation and the smell of filth. You sank to your knees, falling backwards on your butt, getting as comfortable as possible to try to wait it out. Hours passed. The sun began to rise, lighting the polluted sky and shining down onto the changed world as you stood. You shook your right foot to wake it up, pins and needles becoming unbearable, and started making your way down the sidewalk again, trying to stay out of plain sight. As you walked, you could hear the dead ones making noises all over the city, along with the screeching from the rooftops, but you stayed out of sight and kept moving.

Night fell, you'd made your way at least 25 miles from where you started if you had to guess, taking into consideration your pace and lack of breaks. It was time to actually sleep, your eyes drifting closed as you stumbled down the darkening road barely able to see what was in front of you. You were on the highway now, the fastest way down the east coast without traveling through populated areas. You wondered if you could somehow get a kayak and just boat down the coast...  
A high pitched screech interrupted your thoughts, you ducked between a bus and a broken down pickup truck, holding your breath. You could hear footsteps as you squeezed your eyes shut. More footsteps could be heard. And more. You stood up to realize that you were in the center of a large hoard, traveling together, toward the forest off the side of the highway. You held in a sob as you stood motionless, if they realized you weren't one of them, you'd be torn to shreds.  
A body bounced off you, you flinched, hand on your knife. Another. One of them looked at you, some sort of trace of intelligence flashing in it's dead eyes. All color drained from your face as it squared it's shoulders and faced you. This was it.  
You closed your eyes and waited for it to happen, you were surrounded, there was no getting out of it this time. You covered your ears as a loud screech echoed through the nighttime air, the sound of crunching metal beside you as something landed on the roof of the pickup truck, then a blur passed your vision as it landed on the creature that had just been staring at you like a snack. Arms circled your waist as you were hoisted up, lifted on top of the truck, the bus. Your stomach turned as the world blurred by, spinning before you lost consciousness midair.

Your eyes fluttered open, you winced as the morning sun shone in your face. Groaning, you turned over, before realizing you had no idea where you were. You sat straight up, eyes wide, taking in your surroundings. The sun was hot, almost too hot for the time of year. It had to be almost midday. You were on the rooftop of a rest stop. You peered over the edge to see maybe three dozen of them wandering around, a few of them crawling with limbs dragging. You laid back down on your back, staring at the sky and sighed. You were trapped. Your stomach growled audibly. Despite your exhaustion, you scramble to your feet to survey the area. 

The air smelled of gasoline and rot, metal cars reflect off the hot sun, lined up in the black pavement of the highway below. Dark figures wandered around aimlessly, bumping into themselves and the vehicles that lined the freshly paved roadway. The chattering, lifeless groaning rose to a fever pitch as the cicadas sang in the heat. You had to get out of there. 

Running as quietly as you could, you crossed the rooftop to the back of the building to descend the fire escape ladder, rust scratching at your sweaty palms. You breathed heavily as your feet hit the grass below, no sign of the undead back there. You took one last look at the ladder before sprinting silently from behind the building, continuing in the direction you were previously headed in. Most of the dead seemed to be congregating on the main roadway, leaving the path ahead reasonably clear. 

Eventually, your pace slowed to a fast paced walk, unable to continue running between being dehydrated and starving, and of course not remembering when you last got a good night sleep. You lost sight of the highway behind you, trying to find a safe place that was out of sight to stay for the night. You counted your footsteps to keep your mind busy. 87, 88, 89... 2098, 2099.. You cried out in frustration as you lost count for what must have been the hundredth time in a row. Remembering to look up and around at the landscape, you took note of the tall trees, grass turning brown in the shade, the silent air as the afternoon sun started falling lower and lower in the sky. Even the cicadas seemed to have abandoned you for the comfort of their safe homes for the night.

You continued up the dirt road you'd been on for hours, you were desperate for something, anything that looked like safety. A farmhouse came into view off the dirt road up ahead and you startled, then sighed in hesitant relief, though not ready to let your guard down yet. Anything could be waiting for you in there. Dirt kicked up behind you in the light of the setting sun as you looked up at the old homestead, white paneling with black shutters, the doors and windows intact sending flutters of hope through your chest. It looked almost normal.

You eased up the stairs, readying your gun, not allowing yourself to let your guard down despite all the promising signs of solitude. The heavy door opened easily, a coat of white lead paint flaking off in long strips leaving deep lines of texture as it aged. Stepping inside, the air turned stale, thick with dust as if no one had been there to disturb it for a long time. After searching each room thoroughly, you lock the door and sigh, closing your eyes. And then...

A noise came from above you, almost like footsteps on the second floor, each a dull thud echoing through the darkening house. Your breath caught in your throat as you made your way to the stairs, gun drawn, all the blood draining from your face. You could hear the noise as you ascended, whispering a silent prayer as you turned to face the source of the noise, feet hitting the top stair. But there was nothing. A breeze blew through a window overlooking an overgrown field that lay behind the house, cornstalks swaying silently, rustling eerily as they did, the whispers of a forgotten life. The window was only ajar, but you shut it. Perhaps the noise was a squirrel that got in and ran when it saw you. Shrugging, you continued to search the house for supplies until you could no longer see. 

Dragging yourself back up the stairs, you readjust as to not drop the items you carried with you. Your gun, a warm bottle of water, a bundle of blankets with a pillow and a white emergency candle with a half pack of matches fell from your grip as you settled on the center of the king sized bed in the abandoned master bedroom on the second floor. All the blankets in the house seemed as if they should be heirlooms, beautiful quilts in dated fabric of pinks, pale yellows, seafoam greens with little forget-me-nots and baby's breath flowers dotted the neatly sewn squares. You sighed as you set the candle on the side table, settling in by the light of the moon that was now shining through the window to your right. Your eyes drifted closed as you finally felt safe, warm, impossibly comfortable. 

You sigh as cold hands pull back your blanket, a firm body pressing against you as they sank their weight onto your body. Fingertips traced up and down your sides, your stomach, under your shirt, sending shivers down your spine. Teeth scraped at your collarbone as you moaned quietly, eyes squeezing closed at the sensations that enveloped you. 

Wait.

Your eyes snap open as you remember where you are, recall the decay of the world around you, the cold touch too real to be a dream. You see a shadow and hear a whoosh of air as someone - or something - jumps out of the nearby window to the ground below. You catch your breath as your heart pounds in your chest, unable to comprehend what had happened. Your feet hit the cold wood floor as you padded over to the window, closing it tight. You shivered again as you climbed back into bed. Must have been a really strange dream is all. After all, you longed for human contact like anyone else that had been all alone. You tried to calm your pounding heart as you laid back down, allowing your eyes to close and your mind to wander as you fell into a deep slumber.

The air was stifling hot when you awoke, your clothes sticking to your skin as sweat beaded on your chest, your neck, before dripping down, causing a shiver to course through your body. What time was it? Hopefully you hadn't slept much past sunrise, though the heat seemed to prove otherwise. As you made your way down the stairs, old floorboards creaking under your feet, you listened intently for any noise that was out of the ordinary. Everything was quiet, almost too quiet. No bugs, no voices, not even any groaning from the undead. It was as if the wind had no reason to blow, nothing rustling in the breeze, even the animals had fled from the area, leaving it an eerily empty wasteland. A ghost of what used to be before all of this happened.   
Making your way outside, you noted the sun high in the sky. It was late morning at least, possibly early afternoon. There was no time to go too far to check out your surroundings, that would have to wait until tomorrow. For today, you decided you would take stock of everything in and around the house. Figure out the food situation, try to see if the area was truly abandoned, set up some defenses if you were indeed alone. 

The day passed without incident, you managed to gather up some wood and pile it up on the wraparound porch in case you were stuck here through the cold season, which you knew was coming up sooner rather than later. The corn was all rotted on the dead stalks, you had hoped there would be even a couple cobs left but no such luck. There were a few cans of mixed vegetables, some canned fruit, canned raviolis, pork and beans, but not a lot left. You stacked up the few cans you found in the barren pantry. It looked as if someone took everything they could carry and left the whole house behind. You wondered where they were now as you made your way inside before the sun set down below the treeline. There was a rustling to your right, in the thicket of trees. The squirrel from the night before? You'd probably invaded it's little home. Your stomach grumbled as your eyes darted curiously around the tree limbs, you certainly didn't have any means to even catch a squirrel, you don't know why the thought occurred to you. Shaking your head, you continued back to the house, closing and locking the door behind you and securing it with a heavy oak bookshelf. Sighing, you made your way into the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers to find a can opener. 

Finishing the can of peaches, your stomach growled again. But there was no can opener to open anything with more substantial nutrition, you had to deal with easy-open cans for now. Wordlessly, you tossed the empty can into the sink and started up the stairs. A tree limb snapped loudly outside, causing you to jump, nearly stumbling down the stairs as your breath halted in your throat and your heart hammered away in your chest. Seconds went by silently, then minutes, it seemed like hours before you caught your breath and continued ascending the stairs, careful not to place too much weight and make too much noise as you made your way up.  
The bed was welcoming, your body crying out for rest after not having any form of safety for so long. Peeling off your clothes that you'd been in for who knows how long, the cool nighttime air whispered unspoken promises across your skin. You smiled to yourself as you climbed into bed, pulling the quilt over your tired body, taking note of the soft sheet, the silken pillowcase, the scratch of the stitching on the cool, heavy quilt that slid over your naked body. You hummed as your hands traced over your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and before you knew it you had fallen asleep.

Familiar fingers traced across your face, you could feel him looking at you even though your eyes were still closed. You smiled, gasping as your nipples met the cool air, the quilt sliding away from your warm body. Fingertips pressed into your flesh, grabbing at you greedily, as if claiming you as their own. There was no breath on your skin as teeth bit into your breast, scraping across your nipple before claiming your lips almost hungrily. You could taste blood as you desperately clung to strong arms, teeth pulling at your bottom lip before letting go to claim your mouth in a possessive, breathless kiss. Strong hands slid up your arms, encircling your wrists tightly as you moaned into his mouth, the pressure of his body pressing onto yours, an almost familiar weight pinning you as you arched your back, desperately trying to grind your hips into his. You could feel frantic pressure building in your abdomen as he pressed onto you, finally giving you the delicious friction you craved, his sharp teeth catching on your torn lips as you moaned little pleas for more.   
You cried out and tightened your grip as you felt him slipping away from you. No, you couldn't wake up yet. This was the best dream you'd had since you'd been out on your own. It almost felt real, you didn't want to ever wake up. But you did, your eyes snapping open as the sound of rain pitter-pattered on the tin rooftop above you. Your body was hot and slicked with sweat in the cool air, your blanket somehow found it's way onto the floor. You reached down to pull it back up onto you, your nerve endings still on fire.   
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement by the window. The rain was picking up now, the leaves fell off the trees and swirled around madly in the autumn storm. You got out of bed and made your way to the window, stepping in a small puddle as you closed it up for the night. 'Probably not a good idea to keep that opened at night', you thought to yourself, making your way back to bed.

The next morning, you woke up warm under the covers, the rain still hammering down around the house. You stayed in bed, thinking about everything that's happened thus far. Wondering if you could really stay here for the winter. It seemed secluded enough, there was no one else around - living or otherwise. Restless, you finally sat up, reaching for your clothes as your feet hit the floor. Maybe today would be a good day to gather some rainwater and get them washed. You were sure there must be clothes still in this house somewhere.   
As you stood, you cried out, your waist burned as if a cat scratched you. Peering down, you saw the angry red marks lining both sides of your waist trailing from your breasts to below your hips. You checked your fingernails, they were certainly dirty, you must have scratched yourself while you were having that dream last night. You bit your lip and smiled a little, convincing yourself of this, and tasted blood. Frowning, you put it out of your head and headed for the closet to check for clothes. 

You padded quietly down the stairs in the hand sewn dress you'd found in the closet. There were plenty of clothes, but this seemed like it would be the most comfortable. It was white with delicate pastel stitching, very airy and didn't restrict movement. It would be perfect for relaxing or moving around the house looking for supplies today.   
You headed toward some of the other rooms. The first one you walked into had light yellow walls, a small bed was perfectly made with another beautiful quilt laying on the bed. A wicker basket of blocks sat on the windowsill, as if waiting for its owner to decide to come and play. Everything was neat and tidy, except for the layer of dust that had been forming. A single dead fly lay on the windowsill next to the basket of blocks, you shuddered and backed out of the room.  
The other room you entered was the one that you had originally found the blanket you were using in, but you didn't really take note of everything in the room. The window was fogged and dirty, you could see the dark skies as raindrops dripped down the outside of the bedroom window. The bed was bare without the quilt, the sheets lonely in the low light. The solid oak dresser was dusty in the corner, the simple black lamp stood out like a shadow that was watching your every move. The carpet was soft as you cautiously walked further into the room. A little gold trophy, a photograph of smiling faces on the bedside, a forgotten glass of water turned to dust. Clothes on the rocking chair and a sweater hanging on the back of the door. You took down the sweater, it was soft and looked warm and would be a comfortable loose fit. You didn't feel quite right taking these people's clothes and items, but you knew wherever they were, they didn't need them anymore.

The morning hours dragged on. You looked outside through the front kitchen window at the rain, at the stacked wood you had piled up under the cover of the porch as you thought about how pretty winter would be here. Hopefully by the time the snow melted, any threats will have been eradicated by the freezing temperatures. You stood up and walked to the living room to check the condition of the wood stove. There was still ashes inside, part of a pizza box, splinters of wood on the floor near the little cast iron door. The little door creaked when you closed it again, deciding that tomorrow you would need to clean it out so that it would be ready before the snow started to fly.   
By the end of the afternoon, you decided that you needed something more than canned fruit. There had to be another way to open the cans of food. They appeared to have expired a year and a half prior, but you were sure they would be okay in a pinch. You ignored the tiny expiration dates after being disappointed by the first couple, and continued your search for a can opener, or anything that would open the can up. You tried using your knife, but the tip had started to bend and you didn't want to risk breaking the blade. Frustrated, you tossed the can of pork and beans into the sink, and made your way lazily up the stairs to go lay down. The day was getting later and you were unreasonably tired, perhaps coming down with something.

You don't know how long you laid there, in that little white dress, staring at the ceiling as the rain continued to fall noisily on the roof. You don't even know if you'd blinked, or maybe you'd taken a nap and didn't realize it. Your head was pounding, your skin becoming clammy as stomach growled loudly. You ignored the pain. It was getting dark much earlier than normal because of the storm, and lightning flashed through the room before a loud clap of thunder echoed menacingly just outside the farm house. Your stomach turned and you felt your muscles throbbing, you couldn't stand up even if you wanted to. You were so tired..  
You let your eyes close and focused on the sounds around you as the sound of the rain intensified. The window squeaked, you didn't open your eyes. You would need to fix it, it was loose and always moving around on its own. You sighed as you relaxed even further, a weight seemed to press down around you, almost lulling you into a feeling of false security. A drop of water fell on your cheek. Another on your neck. Water fell onto the fabric of your dress, cooling you instantly.  
Your lips parted as your eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus in the dark on what was in front of you. Freezing cold, wet fingers circled your forearms, holding them down as your head began spinning. You closed your eyes, this was just another one of those dreams, it must be. There's no one else here. Rough lips captured yours as a sharp knee dug into your thigh before sliding between your legs. Fingernails dug into your arms harshly, causing you to cry out in pain. A growl escaped his throat before his teeth closed on your sore lips. You tried to pull away, the searing hot pain of the bite, the fingernails digging into your arm, the burning scratches you'd found on your body this morning all becoming too much to bear. The more you struggled, the tighter he gripped you, his face inches from yours, staring down as you became too weak to struggle anymore. You hadn't moved for a full minute, maybe more. Your labored breathing becoming painful as you became feverish. His grip loosened, his hips lowering onto yours, pressing hard against you as his mouth caught yours again. You groaned as you felt that familiar ache in your lower abdomen, opening your mouth as to deepen the kiss. He tasted like blood and earth, the sickly sweet tang staining your mouth as your hips rose to grind harder into his. His hands left your wrists to grip your hips, growling as he tore the hem of the white dress upwards, pushing your knees apart with his and exposing your sensitive skin to the cool air. The sweat on your skin instantly cooled you, causing you to shiver violently. His mouth was on your neck, teeth scraping hungrily down your collarbone, your chest, digging harshly into your nipple as he continued advancing on you with no patience. Strong fingers dug into your thighs, forcing them apart as your hips rose automatically to meet nothing but the cold air. Fingertips grazed over your most sensitive spot, you cried out desperately, your hands curling into the sweater he was wearing, sliding up to tear off his hood before you laced your fingers in his hair, tugging and pleading as he teased you with not so gentle hands.   
You pulled him down to your torn lips, kissing him hungrily as he finally pushed himself into you with inhuman force. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes as he pounded into you, the obscene wet sounds of your arousal louder now than the thunder that filled the darkening evening sky, his grip on your waist tightening, tightening. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt fingernails dig into your skin, too deep, as waves of pleasure almost drowned you. His fingers slipped, warm, wet, dripping down your sides as you squeezed and dripped around his cock as he continued to tirelessly slam into you. Fingers wrapped around your throat as his mouth claimed yours again, teeth scraping against yours, tearing into your already damaged skin. He squeezed and rested his lips on yours, you panted as the sensations of him inside you, his hand on your neck, his fingernails digging into your stomach, became too much. You cried out almost noiselessly as you came hard around him, the blinding pain of his fingertips ripping through your stomach, the sudden lack of oxygen from his hand wrapped around your throat sending you reeling, you felt like you were floating, floating, you felt his lips gently on yours, the vague realization that he was curling his body around you, the wet warmth on your stomach, your throat, between your thighs. You sighed, and the world went dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! xxx


End file.
